Chapter 3 - The Lens in the Wall
Eleanor’s left eyebrow lifts just a fraction of a millimeter.
She doesn't glance toward the corner of the ceiling.
She doesn't look at the small, black dome hidden inside the smoke detector molding.
"It is broken," she says softly, her voice dropping into a gentle, melodic cadence.
"You know how old the wiring in this house is, Marcus."
"I checked the feed from the car," Marcus whispers, his grip on Sophie tightening.
"I saw you grab her."
Eleanor stops moving.
The ambient hum of the stainless steel refrigerator fills the space between them.
She slowly reaches out, her maroon nail touching the edge of Marcus’s collar, right over the dark grease stain on his gray shirt.
"You're tired from work," she says quietly, her voice full of sweet, terrifying concern.
"You're seeing things again, darling."
Sophie shudders against his chest, her fingernails digging through his shirt and into his skin.
"She locked the pantry, Daddy," Sophie whimpers into his ear, her child-logic piercing the silence.
"She said if I ate the crackers, the monsters in the basement would get my toes."
Eleanor smiles, a thin, colorless parting of her lips.
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"Children have such vivid imaginations when they don't get their way," Eleanor says to the empty air.
"Don't they, Marcus?"
